Chapter Eleven: Promise

"Dominic's dead?" Lindsey whispered, unable to find her voice. Gordon nodded morosely, "With the trademark smile carved on…along with a confession written in blood about killing Claire DeFranc."

Part of Lindsey wanted to jump up and rub it into the man's face about knowing Claire's death was via the Joker, but her more rational side forced her to stay silent.

"Written in blood?" she asked just as softly as before. Gordon nodded in response. He began informing her of funeral plans, but Lindsey toned him out. She'd heard too many memorial service announcements for too many of her classmates.

While she never truly got to know Dominic, she had grown closer to Monica. Lindsey knew Monica and Dominic had something going on behind the scenes. She equated the two to being like Aubrey and Ian's Beauty and the Beast scenario, with Monica as the Beast and Dominic as Belle. Lindsey knew the Beast would be heartbroken. Her only intent now was to comfort the only friend she seemed to have.

Unless Angela's a friend now... she did give me hair dye as a disguising tool.

Lindsey bitterly thought about Kelsey. The two had been friends since kindergarten. Lindsey could hardly believe how much the tables had turned in only a week and a half. Before then, she would have barely considered Monica an acquaintance and never even spared Angela a thought.

"Mr. Wayne will be taking you home to pack," Gordon informed her. Lindsey finally listened to him as he continued, "You'll meet up with Monica and Angela here and I will personally bring you three to the house."

Lindsey nodded and asked as an afterthought, "Are you planning on telling Bruce what I told you?"

"No. What you say in here is strictly between you and me unless an outsider's life is in danger. May I ask why?"

"I just…" Lindsey struggled for the right words, "I don't know how much he trusts me now."

Gordon stared at her down the bridge of his nose, "How much he trusts you or how much you trust him?"

Lindsey dropped her head so she could stare at the table. Hesitantly, she muttered loud enough for him to hear, "The man from Bruce's office…he did mention Bruce and Alfred…and my mom and my sister. Oh God, Abby!"

"We've received no evidence that she's in any immediate danger," Gordon answered calmly. Lindsey momentarily squeezed her eyes shut before drawling, "Only when I'm around huh?"

He equivocated her question by saying, "I don't want you to think of this as being 'locked up.' You will be fully accommodated…"

Lindsey toned him out once again as he described her new quarters. Her attention averted to a younger officer walking in the room with a plastic crate filled to the top with videotapes. She watched as he set the box in the cabinet just behind Gordon. Her eyes narrowed at the stacks of tapes filling the overstuffed shelves.

"Lindsey?" Gordon questioned, irritation present in his voice at her distraction. Lindsey slowly turned back to the man, "I understand."

Gordon sighed, "No you don't. But your guardian is here. I expect to see the three of you by this evening."

Lindsey nodded slowly and absently, her eyes locked on the now closed doors of the metal cabinet built into the wall.

"You're known as the heroic little girl who supposedly single handedly brought down a disregarded school drug scandal, you're living with close family friend and billionaire prince of Gotham, you killed a man, caused the death of one- although if he hadn't been shot he'd have no use for the hand you ruined, severely injured another man who was- like his comrade- just doing a job he was assigned, and ruined his life!"

"Gordon?" She voiced, stopping him on his way to the door. Gordon looked over his shoulder with a quirked brow. Lindsey almost felt guilty for getting his hopes up, but she wasn't planning on pouring her thoughts out on him.

Instead, she asked curiously, "Do you keep security camera footage after significant events?"

"Of course. Any particular reason?" He responded inquisitively.

"I wanted to add my debut to my portfolio."

"All I can say is thank the Lord they're finally putting you kids somewhere safe," Joan replied after being filled in by Lindsey when the latter returned to the penthouse, "This whole thing is disgusting! And I still can't get out of bloody London!"

"You so just said bloody and I'm thinking about having you straight jacketed," Lindsey said dryly.

"Sod off," Joan responded in the same tone, using yet another English term, "I hate that I can't be there for you and Abby. How're Bruce and Alfred doing?"

"Um, they're alright…"

"What do you mean?"

Lindsey cleared her throat, "Well, Bruce is standing in my door way with a funny face so I think he wants to talk to you."

Bruce, who was indeed standing in Lindsey doorway with said funny face, promptly took the offered phone from Lindsey's outstretched hand- not before lightly smacking her upside the head. Lindsey maturely retorted by sticking out her tongue.

"Hey Joan…yeah she's packing right now," he emphasized 'packing' staring pointedly at Lindsey. She looked at the very empty suitcase on the floor by her bed and shrugged.

"Abby's staying here. She wanted to stay with Alfred."

Lindsey smiled, knowing how much Abby adored Alfred. She knew her sister would be in good hands.

"Alright…I know…Joan…yes…oh, come on!"

Lindsey laughed, just imagining her mother's voice filling in before Bruce's juvenile responses.

"I know, Joanie. Here she is."

Bruce pressed the phone against Lindsey's ear, walking off without even making sure she had a hold on it. Lindsey managed to catch the device and kick one of her pillows at him.

"Lindsey, honey," Joan started drowsily, "You know I would never support something I didn't think would be for your best interest."

"I know, Mom."

"I mean, if they were wanting to really put you in a jail cell, then I would paddle over there and chew them a new one."

"I know, Mom."

"But Lt. Gordon informed me that you and the other girls are pretty much staying at a five star hotel…just connected to the police station."

"I know, Mom."

"And I'm coming back in four days."

Lindsey chuckled, "Chase the rain away, Mom."

"Cute," she commented half heartedly before returning to her serious self, "I love you, Lindsey."

"I love you too Mom."

"Just…promise me you'll stay safe."

Lindsey was silent. How could she promise something like that? Nowhere seemed to be "safe." Although she could understand why her mother would be yearning to hear those words from her oldest daughter.

"I promise."

"Thank you," Joan answered breathily. Lindsey felt a pang of guilt stab at her harder than ever. She'd seen her mother cry once before – right after her husband passed, but Lindsey could tell she was choking back tears over the phone.

"Mom. I'll be safe. I promise."

"I know, Linds," Joan replied, "Now put Bruce back on."

Lindsey smiled and stepped out into the hall, where Bruce was checking his teeth in the mirror. "Hey," she shouted to startle him before tossing the phone at him.

Bruce clumsily caught the flying device as Lindsey sauntered back into her room. She pulled the dresser drawers open and threw handfuls of clothes in the general direction of her suitcase. She hadn't brought all of her clothes to Bruce's penthouse, but she decided to leave some in the room just in case. She'd already cleared it with him that this was her room.

"So when you bring girls home-"

"Women," Bruce corrected as he shoved her suitcases in the back of the closet, "Hasn't Barney taught you anything?"

"Barney doesn't teach us to dignify females," Lindsey stated defiantly before continuing the previous statement, "So when you bring women home, this room is off limits."

Bruce snorted, "That so?"

"That is so. This is my room."

"Your two week room."

Lindsey flopped back on her bed, "This happens to be my favorite room and I've had to stay with you way too many times to not have a room. And when you rebuild the manor, I want a room there too."

Bruce chuckled and tossed the blankets Alfred had left by the door on top of the teenager, "Whatever you say, Doll."

"Joan, she'll still be able to stay here. It's not like I'm going to build her a dog house and make her stay outside if you're trip's prolonged."

Lindsey snorted and muttered to herself, "He would."

"You know I don't want to send you here any more than you want to be here," Bruce confirmed to Lindsey as he parked in the back of the police station.

"Yeah," she answered curtly. Bruce continued as if she hadn't begun an attitude, "And as much as I'd like to keep you with me, there are only so many times we can screw up with you."

Lindsey narrowed her eyes briefly and looked at him from the corner of her eye, "We?"

"You haven't been a big help, now haven't you?"

Lindsey would have taken opposition by claiming she was helpful as a watchdog, but something about his almost invisible flinch and the way he smiled with the response sent her in silence. She'd seen him enough to know a few telltale signs he wasn't being completely truthful. What could Bruce be lying about, though?

After a few seconds of thought and the walk inside the building, Lindsey decided she was reading too much into the matter. Bruce Wayne and everything about his life was an open book. He had nothing to hide.